Rules were made to be broken
by Ice-Cold-Diamonds
Summary: Set shortly after 1x10. Clarke's tent is ripped to pieces after a small storm and even though she's reluctant and a bit annoyed, she temporarily moves in to a certain Rebel Leader's tent. Slow burn Bellarke.
1. Sharing tents

Bellamy's eyes opened wide, his breathing strained and laboured. His forehead was laced with sweat and he tried to wipe it away with shaking hands.

The sound of Clarke lightly snoring was the only thing that convinced him he wasn't still engulfed in his nightmares. She groaned softly and turned her back to him. All he could see from his place on the floor was her golden hair, splayed across her pillow.

Earlier that night, a tree had fallen on Clarke's tent and ripped huge holes in the parachute material. Luckily, she wasn't inside at the time, she was actually outside looking at the stars, enjoying the fact that no one else was around. She'd quickly decided that she'd stay in the drop ship until she could fix her tent. But when Bellamy found out he was adamant that she would share his tent, stating that the metal made the ship too cold for any one person by themselves.

A small, small smile played across his lips when he thought back to how much she hated the idea.

"_I don't need you to watch out for me Bellamy. Besides, I never listened to you in the past, so why would I start now?" _

"_Stop being so stubborn, Princess. You can't argue with me on this one because you know I'm right." _

"_I'm not being stubborn. I understand that the ship isn't the best place to stay but I can just share someone else's tent." It was clear to Bellamy that she held back a certain thought. Why does it have to be you? And although he'd never admit it, the silent question hurt him more than it should have. _

"_The tents are already crowded enough as it is. We were the only people not sharing with anyone else. There's at least three to every tent so far. Jasper's complaining about how he has to share with five other guys. It's impractical to push you into a place that's so crowded. You need to be well rested. And we'll get more planning done this way." _

_She groaned, in a way that made him certain he'd proved his point and that she wasn't happy about it at all. "Fine. But I'm sleeping on the floor." _

_Bellamy had no time to argue. She stormed into his tent and threw a fur skin on the ground, curled up on top of it and minutes later, she had fallen asleep. Bellamy waited a few more moments, making sure she was in deep before he gently picked her up and placed her under the covers of his bed; scolding himself mentally for caring about her comfort. _

His breathing had slowed and he started to drift off again, hoping that for once he'd sleep in bliss instead of fear. He was wrong. It was the same people every day; his sister, his victims, the whole of the hundred. The weight of every action he had ever made dawned on him while he slept. Horrible memories replayed over and over in his head. He saw himself place a knife in Charlotte's hand. He saw Octavia being ripped from his arms. He saw the sky display of dead bodies being sent into space; bodies that would still be alive if it weren't for him.

He begged for them to change, for the nightmares to fade away but instead they turned into something more horrifying. He was standing in front of one hundred graves. Grave stones made out of wood with names carved into them at the back of each.

He broke down. Tears streamed from his eyes as he fell to the ground, dirt covering his wet face, his knees, his hands. He clawed at the Earth and prayed this wasn't happening. His friends were buried below him and there was nothing he could do. The weight of their deaths fell heavy on him, constricting him past the point of suffocation. He couldn't die. He couldn't escape. He couldn't be free. And he knew he never would be.

Bellamy jolted forward with a gasp. He raked his neck and grabbed his chest, his heart pounding underneath.

Clarke had woke as soon as he had and he was glad she hadn't seen him before he had the chance to build up his walls again. "You okay?" She asked but then seemed to realize she was no longer asleep next to his bed, but in it. "What the hell. Bellamy?!"

"Keep it down, Clarke." His voice sounded like gravel and it sent a shiver down Clarke's spine.

"Why am I in your bed?" She sat up quickly.

"Relax, Princess. I just switched places with you last night. Nothing more. I'm gonna go get some breakfast. You want anything?"

"No." She paused for a minute and just as he left the tent he heard her whisper, "Thank you."

He was contemplating giving up on the idea of food and going back inside but decided against it when he realized he would probably just make things awkward because he didn't have anything to say to her. He found himself simply enjoying her company which is something he'd only recently come to terms with.

A little more than a few weeks ago they were at each other's throats every day. But after what had happened, when he thought she was close to death from that dumb disease Murphy brought in, they'd become closer. Not much closer, but closer none the less. There were moments when he still got frustrated with her though, and he knew he still annoyed her constantly.

When Bellamy came back into his tent, after eating a few nuts and berries, Clarke was gone. He didn't talk to her for the rest of the day, she was extremely busy checking up on everyone who had been effected by the illness. It was about a week later and some people still hadn't fully recovered.

He had stayed inside for most of the day. The pouring rain meant hunting would be almost impossible and with the cold wind that danced through the trees, staying warm_ was_ impossible. He was leaning over his desk sighing and rubbing his temple as he drew down plans on old bits of paper. He wished he had more light than a torch and a few candles, but until they could find lanterns that was as could as he was going to get it.

Clarke cleared her throat, surprising Bellamy a bit. "What are you doing?"

"I'm trying to help Monty with these green house plans. We need to make sure that sun can still get inside and rain as well if we can find a way."

She pulled her hair into a ponytail and bit her bottom lip. "But we need to have a roof on it so no animals can get in."

He looked up at her. "So you see my dilemma?"

"Yeah I see it. I don't know if I can help you with it though."

"Can you at least draw it for me? I'm rubbish." He asked, almost pleading with her.

Bellamy stood up and offered her the one chair inside his tent. She sat down and faced him as he sat on the bed. He noticed the shine in her eyes when she picked up the pencil. "Uh, you know what we could do for the roof?"

"Hmm?" She raised her eyebrows and sketched the side walls.

"We could use some parachute and cut smallish holes in it so the light still gets in but it'll still protect the plants."

Clarke stopped for a minute. "We don't have any spare material."

Bellamy layed down on his back and reached his hands behind his head. "Yeah we do. You can't possibly repair your tent and the tear is right in the middle so we could cut it in half and save one of the pieces."

She gave him a confused look for a short while and then demanded, "Where do I get a new tent from?"

"You don't. You stay in here."

Clarke shook her head. "And make you lie on the ground? That's not happening. You deserve to sleep in your own bed."

Bellamy was surprised that was her only reluctance. "We can share."

"You're not letting this go are you?" She glared at him and it was his turn to shake his head.

"Nope."

She did a quick drawing of how she imagined the roof looking, labelling everything she saw fit. "I guess we can start building the green house now then."

"Not right this minute. I need to sleep." He slid under the blankets and scooted over to make room for her. Clarke stood, blew out the candles and sprawled herself on top of the covers. Bellamy groaned and turned his back to her.

"Well, it's a start." He mumbled.

After what seemed like only seconds of silence Clarke muttered, "You never answered my question."

"And what question was that?"

"This morning you got up and looked like you'd seen a Grounder's ghost. And I asked you if you were okay."

Bellamy didn't want to relive it. Not with her, not with anyone. "And?" He snapped.

"_And, _are you?"

He let out a long, shaky breath. "No."

"Bellamy." Clarke said in a quiet voice. She got the feeling he wasn't happy about talking about it so she placed her hand on his bicep and squeezed gently. Her soft yet burning touch was enough to coax him into facing her. His eyes were closed but he listened to her half-heartedly. "I get them too."

**Please let me know if you want me to continue this. It doesn't take long to review and it means the absolute world to me. Also, sorry if there's any spelling or grammar mistakes, I am honestly the world's worst proof reader. **


	2. Grounder attack

**A/N: Thank you so much to every single one of you who reviewed in such a short amount of time! I honestly expected to get none so I'm so appreciative. Also, I'm not sure if I like the name of this story but I can't think of anything better at the moment. What do you guys think? xx**

"Clarke?" Monty called as he pulled back the door to the drop ship. "Are you in here?"

She climbed down the ladder, jumping the last few steps and sighed. "I always am. What's going on?"

"Would you come with me to look for some plants?" He asked quietly. "I know a few we need for food but I don't have a clue about the kind that have medicinal properties."

Clarke looked down at the small, shriveled weed in her hand. "I've got to do my rounds this morning but I was looking at our supplies and we do need to restock."

Monty smiled at her. "So when should we leave?" He was practically jumping up and down. She knew he hated being stuck inside the walls, though he was far too selfless to ever tell anyone that.

She felt a smile creep upon her face when his lit up, pleased that she had brought a bit of happiness into his life. "Meet back here in an hour?"

"Sure. That gives me enough time to have some breaky." He grinned wider and Clarke laughed.

"You're the only person I know who says 'breaky' anymore." She walked next to him and they both left the ship. "Before you start eating, can you tell Bellamy about the trip?"

"No problem." He nodded at her and they went their separate ways. Monty made a beeline for the campfire and Clarke walked towards a girls' tent, starting her rounds.

The last person Clarke had to check up on was a young boy called Elijah. He had turned fourteen the same day Murphy came back to camp and the day after, he fell victim to the same illness she had. He was affected worse than anyone else.

The constant bleeding from his eyes caused him to go temporarily blind, something extremely rare that Clarke had only ever read about and for a few days, he was passing in and out of consciousness every five minutes. Yesterday, he couldn't move his toes or fingers and Clarke feared he would become permanently paralysed but when she walked into his tent he told her he could detect every tendon in his entire body.

Even though he had struggled to fight the war between the light and the dark, he never once saw death as an option. Elijah had joked around with Clarke when he saw her and told her stories of his prankster times on the Ark. She couldn't even begin to wrap her head around how strong willed he had been through it all.  
After she drilled it into him that he still had two weeks of bed rest, she let him be and left. Bellamy was beside her instantly. "Leaving the camp today, huh?"

Clarke nodded and walked into his tent. He shrugged his shoulders and followed her, watching her as she grabbed her day pack. "Are you taking your gun?"

"I can't even shoot straight, Bellamy. What's the point of carrying dead weight?"

"Hmm." He placed a finger to his chin and stared at the top of his tent, pretending to ponder her question. "Maybe the fact that you might be _dead _without it."

"I may not be good with a gun but I'm not completely helpless." She rolled her eyes and chucked a dagger in her bag. "You happy now?"

"No. Take Miller with you." Bellamy glared at her when she scoffed and he grabbed her arm when she tried to brush past him. "Listen Princess, you're the only person who can patch up the wounded. If you go out there and get yourself killed, we all die with you. You either take Miller, or you take me!"

"Let go, Bellamy!" She pulled out of his grasp, sent a stony stare his way and turned around to face the tent wall. "You can't order me around. We lead _together_." She said, the last part a little more than a breath.

"I know." He sat on the bed, his head in his hands and he sighed. "And I'm sorry."

Clarke spun around and he stared at her. "What?"

"You heard me." He muttered. "I'm not saying it again."

…

He had protested the idea of what he called 'babysitting' instantly but the minute Clarke told him it was Bellamy's idea, he shut up and hadn't spoken a word since. Not that that bothered Clarke or Monty; they were both quite content to talk with each other about all the different plants they'd seen and the plans for the green house and how the meat they'd been catching lately was a bit tough. Miller huffed just behind them when he heard that but didn't join in on the conversation.

Clarke's day just got better when they found an overgrown Aloe Vera plant. The radiation caused it to grow four, maybe even five times bigger than it originally had before the war. Miller chopped down a big piece and shoved it into his bag.

By the time the sun started to set, they'd found so many things. Monty had bags filled with seeds for planting and Clarke's bag was full of weeds and berries and plants. The two were discussing different rocks that could be turned into paint when Miller started complaining about the smell of the Dokudami he had to carry.

"If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all." Monty teased.

Clarke poked a finger at Miller's shoulder. "That's probably why he's been so quiet today, Monty."

"Shut it you two."

Monty snickered and asked sarcastically, "Who knew you were so insecure?"

"No seriously! Be quiet. I hear something." He pulled them both behind a large shrub just as the two Grounder's came into view in the distance. They wove quickly through the tall trees, heading straight for them. Clarke prayed they hadn't been spotted. She prayed they _wouldn't_ be spotted.

Clearly, she hadn't prayed hard enough because she made eye contact with the male Grounder, who rose his spear and launched it. She didn't have time to think. Stupidly, she stood, trying to run behind the closest piece of cover. The weapon sliced her side and she fell to the ground.

"Clarke!" The two boys called out at the same time. Miller was hiding behind a tall oak, his gun in his hands, and Monty crawled to her side.

"I'm fine. It barely scratched me." She placed her hand over Monty's and looked him in the eyes. "We have to go." She said a little louder, in an attempt to catch Miller's attention.

He fired his gun and hit one of the Grounder's in the leg and then again in the shoulder, while the other charged towards him, his bow raised, the pointed shaft ready to fly.

Monty helped Clarke up and they leant on each other for support. Miller shot at the running Grounder and as the bullet collided with his heart, his body spun, his fingers released, and the arrow sank into Monty's stomach. He fell into Clarke and she gripped him hard.

"Miller!" Clarke yelled. "Get us out of here!" She whispered into Monty's hair how sorry she was and that he was going to be fine but if she was honest with herself, she was sure he wouldn't survive this.

He ran to them and scooped Monty in his arms. "Clarke, you need to breathe. You'll fix him right up when we get back." He smiled at her and she slowed her racing heart.

_It's going to be okay. _She told herself as they sprinted across the grassy earth. _Pull yourself together. Monty needs you right now. You can breakdown later._

…

Miller dropped him into Jasper's arms the minute they got back. As scrawny as Jasper was when his best friend was in trouble, all his adrenaline seemed to kick in. Clarke could tell he was walking the line between pushing on and stopping short, she was just glad that he had the power to stay composed.

She followed them into the drop ship and watched as Jasper placed Monty on the med table. Clarke could faintly hear Bellamy asking her questions but she couldn't focus on his voice. It was like everything was blurred except for what was write in front of her. She could feel him next to her, squeezing her hand but she couldn't give in, not yet.

"Jasper, I need you to get me some moonshine, as much as possible." She ordered and he left quickly, bumping into three people in his rush. That's when she really noticed how many people there were surrounding her. "Bellamy, please, get everyone out of here."

He nodded. "Get out! Now!" In a matter of seconds there were only four people in the drop ship. Clarke, Monty, Octavia and Bellamy. Jasper stumbled back inside carrying the homemade alcohol.

Bellamy poured it into a container for Clarke while she searched for a rag to clean Monty's wound. He placed it on the table next to the metal bed and looked into her eyes, trying his best to settle her nerves. He knew she didn't want to look weak. She met his gaze for a second and nodded slowly, breathing out.

"Octavia, in my bag there's a dagger. I need you to get it out, clean it off and take it to the fire. Make sure it's searing hot, bright orange and get back here as fast as you can." The younger girl nodded and began searching.

"Bellamy, Jasper, I need to get this arrow out of him. You're going to have to hold him down. I don't know when he's going to wake up but I know that when he does all he'll feel is pain." The two obeyed and grabbed onto his arms and legs.

Slowly, she pulled out the arrow, thankful that at least it didn't go the whole way through, and pressed an old, clean t-shirt onto his abdomen. "Perfect timing, O" Bellamy said when his sister came back into view, carrying the fiery knife in her hands.

"This bit's messy. We need to seal his wound so he doesn't lose too much blood. Octavia, as soon as I move my hands you need to push that dagger onto Monty. Can you do that?" Clarke almost pleaded at her and she was relieved when Octavia gulped but nodded.

"Good. You ready?" Octavia held her head high and shook herself a little. "You'll do great you just need to be quick." Clarke reassured her.

She pulled up her palms, her side piercing with pain and Octavia plunged. It was over in seconds and Clarke began to clean up Monty's wound. Miraculously, he didn't wake up for any part of the ordeal.

Bellamy pulled Octavia out of the ship the second she finished cleaning her hands, insisting she get some sleep.

Jasper pulled one of the few chairs they had up to Monty's bed and sat his chin on the cold metal. Clarke knew Jasper was wishing it was him. She could tell from his face; the lines in his forehead caused by worry, the creases by his eyes that would usually be because of laughter were now there because of sadness, his turned down lips expressing all the despair that corrupted his heart.

"Is he going to be okay?" Jasper asked her, not looking away from Monty.

Clarke placed her hand on his shoulder. "Yes." She put her whole heart into that single word, hoping it was enough to ease some of his troubles. He reached one of his hands up and placed it over hers. She squeezed him softly and then suggested they move him into a proper bed.

"Good plan." He smiled sadly at her and they carried him into his and Jasper's tent. "Thanks, Clarke."

She ruffled Monty's hair and hugged Jasper tightly as she whispered, "Anything for my boys."

Clarke left Jasper with Monty and started towards the drop ship, ready to put a few bandages on herself. She was almost at the opening when she say Bellamy climbing a tree. It was thick with lots of branches, all quite close together, but still tall enough to pass the roof of the iron container.

_He's going to get himself killed. _She thought and followed him up. It took her a lot longer to get up to the top than it had for Bellamy. But when she did, it was worth it. He was lying down on his back, peering up above.

Clarke took very cautious steps towards him, scared of slipping. She layed next to him, their arms pressed together lightly. A few days ago she would have said that they were a little too close but she found herself liking it.

They layed there for what felt like days. Letting all their anxieties fade. Bellamy slid his hand into hers. "It's definitely a different way of seeing the universe isn't it?"

Clarke hummed sleepily. "I used to think I'd get sick of seeing it. But down here, I could live a thousand life times and still want to look at the night sky."

Bellamy replied to her but she didn't hear him. Her eyelids gradually closed and her head moved into his bicep. She inhaled his scent and slipped into her dreams.

She was stirred a few minutes later, her side blazed in pain. "Clarke? You fell asleep. It's a hot night but it's still winter. We can't stay up here much longer." She scrunched her face and swore under her breath. "Are you okay?"

"I'm alright." She tried to smile but she grimaced. "Let's get down."

Bellamy went first and when he jumped to the ground he reached out for her, grabbed her around the waist and frowned when she muffled her cries. "Okay, what's wrong with you?"

Reluctantly she held up her shirt and showed him her left side. "Shit, Clarke. I'm no doctor but that looks like it needs stitches."

She took off into the drop ship and he followed her, sitting where Monty had layed only a few hours earlier. She climbed up the ladder, refusing to show Bellamy how much it hurt her, and came back down carrying some antibacterial paste and a couple bandages.

Clarke lifted her shirt and held onto the bottom of it with her mouth, freeing both her hands again. She finished applying some of the ointment and was about to stick a piece of cloth over it when she caught him staring.

"If you're going to be in here you might as well help. Place this over the cut." She handed Bellamy the cloth and he slid off the table.

"How'd this happen anyway? You piss off Miller some more?"

She glared at him but it didn't stay on her face for long. She was too tired to keep it up. "No, it was some Grounder and his spear."

Bellamy shook his head and laughed quietly. "Always getting into trouble."

"Like you're not." She bit back.

He wrapped a bandage around her waist and pinned it. Clarke noticed that his hands stayed on her hips and he looked down at her. Her blue eyes met his brown ones and as he leant closer into her, she became vaguely aware of how near they were. Her forehead skimmed his and she took in a quick breath.

"At least I can handle it, Princess." He smirked and left her standing there, her mouth formed in an 'o' and her cheeks a shade of crimson.


	3. Conflicted feelings

**A/N: I just wanted to say a huge thank you to everyone who's given me feedback on this story! All your reviews and follows and favourites show me that people actually want to read this and it motivates me to keep writing! So with that being said, please continue to read and review. Enjoy :) xx**

_Curse him. _She thought instantly. _Curse him and his confusing personality. _Clarke couldn't understand how one minute Bellamy was kind, caring and open and the next he was hot-headed, egotistic and completely stoic. She was drawn to him for reasons she couldn't even fathom but he was constantly pulling away.

There were moments when Clarke found herself talking to Bellamy like the two were best friends. She confided in him the way she had with her father and she trusted him with everything. There were moments when she thought he felt the same way but then, as quick as clicking her fingers, he changed and she felt like he hated her, wanted nothing to do with her.

It was incredibly frustrating, trying to wrap her head around the boy with the freckle sprayed cheeks. She ran a hand over her face and groaned as she remembered that she still had to share Bellamy's tent. She couldn't face him.

Clarke thought about staying in drop ship but she knew that if she had one of her reoccurring nightmares, she might wake Monty up. He needed as much rest as possible and she knew she couldn't risk it, no matter how tempting not facing Bellamy was.

Then she had an idea. She could sleep in Raven and Octavia's tent. They shared with two other girls; Elizabeth and Willow and she hoped it wouldn't be too crowded. Octavia was the only one there when Clarke entered the tent but she welcomed her in, squealing about how a sleepover would be fun.

Octavia laughed and moved over on her makeshift bed to make room for Clarke. It wasn't much, a skin on the ground and a few more as blankets, but comfortable just the same. "I'm surprised you lasted this long." Clarke raised an eyebrow at her in confusion and Octavia clarified, "With the whole tent situation and my brother."

"It was only a few days."

The brunette rolled her eyes. "Yeah but I know what he's like and I know what you're like. You two are constantly arguing. I was pretty shocked when he told me you moved into his place."

"It's temporary." She said quickly. "I just needed a break for a bit."

A frown fell on her lips and she sat cross legged, turning further to face her. "What's he done?"

Clarke sighed. "I thought we were starting to get along. I thought we were starting to see things the same way. Every time I think I'm breaking down his walls he just builds them higher, thicker, stronger! I can't stand it!"

"Do you need me to talk to him?"

"No!" She cleared her throat after her short outburst. "No, thank you. I can deal with it. It's just that with everything that's going on with Monty, I can't handle any more of your brother tonight."

Octavia listened to her exasperated breath. "You sound tired."

"I am."

Clarke felt Octavia's hand on her shoulder, gently pushing her towards the ground. "Get some rest." She pulled the blankets over herself and drifted off.

…

Bellamy burst into Octavia's tent, his voice loud. "Octavia, have you seen Clarke? She never came to the tent. She's not in the-" He stopped abruptly when his gaze landed on the girl curled up next to his sister. The next time he spoke his voice was barely audible, clearly he didn't want to wake Clarke. "Oh well, good."

He went to leave but Octavia's voice stopped him. "What the hell are you doing Bell?"

Bellamy scratched the back of his head. "Huh?"

"You need to talk to her." She said as she looked at Clarke. "If you won't talk to me, please talk to her." She was on the verge of begging. She knew Clarke would help her brother if he only asked.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

His sister shook her head. She was certain that he was going to stand his ground, even when it was giving way and crumbling around him. "You can't face this alone, Bellamy." She slipped underneath the furs and put her back in his direction.

He got the message and left immediately. He didn't get what Octavia was saying. Was she asking him to confide in Clarke? No. He knew he couldn't do that, he couldn't seem weak, he couldn't show her how broken he was. He couldn't show anyone. He needed to be strong, for the sake of everybody, and if that meant he had to shut himself off from them he would do it.

So for the next three days Bellamy did. He gave orders and then went to chop trees for firewood. He stayed out all day, ate dinner in his tent alone and made himself a new 'bed' out of big leaves and a few blankets so Clarke wouldn't have to share with him. The only time he spoke to her was when he was checking on Monty and never responded when she yelled at him for not sleeping with her. He never replied when she said goodnight to him and he always woke up before her so he wouldn't have to say good morning either.

When Clarke was talking to Miller about going outside the gates again Bellamy gave up his silence and commanded her that she was not to leave.

"It's too dangerous!" He yelled at her inside the tent.

Clarke was furious. He had no right to say that; to act like he was now the caring Bellamy again. "You're not the boss of me! You haven't acknowledged me in days, why should you be bothered by whether I go or not?"

Miller sensed a 'heated discussion' coming and exited. "Clarke, you're the only healer we have!"

"And I'm also the only person who knows what plants we need besides-" Her sentence stopped as she thought of her still ill friend. "Besides," She cleared her throat, "You can't keep using that excuse. You say that every time I try to leave and I always come back."

Bellamy's fingers curled, balled into fists and turned white as he squeezed hard. "Last time, you were so close to not coming back." He sat on the bed, the one that had now become Clarke's.

As annoyed as she was she calmed herself down. "But I did. Bellamy, I came back. I'll _always_ come back." Clarke sat next to him and grabbed his hand without thinking. "I can take care of myself. You don't need to worry."

Bellamy ripped his hand from her grasp and stood up, a mask over his features. "Worry? I'm not worried, Princess." He said the nickname with a tone of mockery and disgust that made her hate it again.

"Why do you do that?"

Bellamy spun away from her. "I didn't _do _anything." He had the same sound in his voice and she wished he'd stop hiding the fact that he had a heart.

"You just did it again." She pushed her legs straight and walked behind him. Bellamy could feel her palm press to his shoulder. "You put on this façade that you're some cold-blooded, mean-spirited man but I see right through it."

"Stop it." He warned.

"No. I know who you really are Bellamy."

"Clarke, please." His eyes watered but he pressed them together hard and forced them not to form tears. "I can't do this."

"I'm here for you." She echoed words she'd only spoken to him a few weeks ago but they took on an entirely different meaning. "Don't shut me out."

He moves under Clarke's touch to face her but her hand didn't move, instead it finds refuge over his heart. He's hurting and she can see it. She is stunned by the fact that seeing him this shattered could affect her as much as it did.

Clarke reached her other hand to his cheek and wiped a single drop that Bellamy had hoped wouldn't fall. "I'm here for you." She repeated before she dragged him to the bed. Reluctantly, he climbed in, pulled her into his arms with ease and rested his chin on top of her head.

"I'm not ready." He mumbled, almost too quiet to be heard, clearly fighting with himself over whether or not he should even be talking. "I can't. Not yet."

She didn't say anything but she didn't need to. The two always said more with actions than they could with words. The silence between them was safe and as Bellamy slid his hands tighter around her waist, Clarke _felt_ safe too.

…

Bellamy knew Clarke was awake the minute she rolled over. "I still don't like the idea of you leaving." He removed his hands from around her waist and she felt the absence of warmth straight away.

"You can't stop me." She sat up and pushed the blankets off.

Bellamy put a shirt on, covering his tanned, scarred chest. "But I could come with you. We could leave Miller in charge instead."

Clarke laughed at the memory of him complaining about the smell of a plant she had him carry last time they went out together. "I guess that would make Miller happier. I don't think he likes me too much."

"He respects you, Clarke."

"That's not the same thing."

"Sometimes it is." He regarded. "Come on, if we want to do this, we need to leave now."

Clarke looked back at him and smirked. "Are you sure you want to spend the entire day with me? Alone?"

Bellamy mirrored her expression. "I've got nothing better to do."

"Way to make a girl feel special, Blake." She became serious. "Okay. Grab the biggest bag you can. I want to get as much as possible."

He bowed, maintaining eye contact with her. "As you wish, Princess." Clarke realized that this time, when he used her nickname, there was a hint of mischief and humour in his voice. "Any other demands?"

"Make sure you rug up." The wind howled outside. "It's gonna be chilly."

He put on a long sleeve top over his shirt and then pulled on a hoodie. Clarke couldn't help but think about how young it made him look. A blush crept onto her cheeks and she turned away to chuck her jacket on.

Bellamy's hand gripped her elbow as she walked past him, intending to leave. "What?"

His head fell down. "You haven't got shoes on." He said matter of factly and smiled smugly, a glint of cheekiness in his eyes.

"Oh." She picked up her boots and tied the laces messily.

"You're distracted."

Clarke was certain her whole face was red by now and she attempted to look away from him but it was no use. She also tried her best to keep her mind steady; to not think about the creases in his forehead when he was concerned or how hard his shoulder had felt underneath her hand or the way he'd murmured her name in his sleep. But it was pointless. "I'm fine."

He shook his head slowly and pulled the tent door back for her. "Whatever you say."


	4. Mild hyperthermia

**A/N: So here's Chapter 4. I know I must sound like a broken record but I am so thankful for all the feedback you wonderful people throw my way. I cannot put into words how much your reviews make me smile! Please enjoy xxx oh and ps. How cut is the idea of Bell in a hoodie?!**

"How much longer are we gonna be out here?" It was a cold afternoon and even though Bellamy complained, he knew things could get a lot worse than a bit of wind and rain. Luckily, it was just the beginning of winter so the snow hadn't began to fall yet.

The blonde ahead of him continued walking, deeper into the fern infested gully. "As long as we can spare. There's still an hour or so before the sun starts to set."

He jogged to catch up to her, his bag weighing him down. It was full of weird looking rocks he'd been finding. He hoped he could give them to Monty when he woke up. The teen loved everything to do with stones and to Bellamy, holding onto them for him was his way of reassuring himself that his friend would be okay.

He groaned. "That's not even enough time to get back to camp, let alone forage for berries."

The whole day Clarke had muttered things to herself about which plants could help Monty and what they did and how they were used. It was like he was sitting in on a twenty four hour long lecture but he didn't mind all that much. Bellamy figured that keeping her talking was a good way to pass the time and to keep himself distracted from the cold chill that bit down on his toes.

"I'm pretty sure we're going to have to stay out here tonight."

Bellamy scoffed. "You're kidding, right?"

"No, I'm not _kidding._" Clarke bent down to the soft ground and squinted her eyes intensely. "Chuck me that dagger." She held out her hand to him but didn't look away from the small plant that grew between two rocks.

"I think I'll just pass it to you." He slid it into her hand and a jolt of lightning surged through him as their fingers grazed. If Clarke felt the same electricity, she didn't show it. Instead, she hacked at the root of her shrubby plant thing and yanked it from its crevice.

"Anyway, camping in the cold equal's bad idea. Why don't we just go back now? We've already got a lot."

Clarke put the plant away. "I've got a lot that I want but not all that I need." She barked and started to walk off. Bellamy matched her stride immediately.

"Clam down. Tell me what you need and I can help look for it."

The gully was covered in a deathly shade and the rain pelted down harder. "It's bright orange. Sometimes it can have tiny, white bumps on it. It's around the size of my head but it's as light as a single piece of hair." She exaggerated slightly.

"Why do you need it so desperately?"

Clarke's face saddened and she stopped. "It's for Monty." She cleared her throat but it didn't do any good; the tears had already welled. "He's losing so much blood. I can't stop it. Even with the stitches, it's seeping through. And not just from his injury; from his ears, his nose, and his eyes. Even his _freaking _belly buttons bleeding." Her lips turned up slightly at that, more at the joke Jasper had made about not getting it pierced any time soon.

"It's uh," She stuttered, "I can use it to thicken his blood. Not enough to be harmful but the only way the wound will ever scab over is if his blood is thicker. And if I can get the plant I might be able to-"

Bellamy cut her off. "To save him."

She nodded hopelessly. "Yeah."

"Then we're staying out here until we find it." He hated the idea of being exposed, of being cold but he hated the idea of Monty dying far, far more.

She pushed herself up. "We should look for some shelter. I don't think this rain's going to let up any time soon."

"Good idea. But were in a gully. If the rain continues to get heavier all the water's going to run into here and the whole thing will be flooded."

"Don't be so dramatic. The ground might get a little muddy but I'm sure it'll be fine."

"Well, don't come complaining to me if your feet get wet, Princess."

…

After an hour of searching they were beginning to get anxious. The sky was covered in clouds so dark they could probably be called black. It was getting extremely hard to see and Bellamy nearly face planted into a puddle when he tripped over a log.

That little incident had pushed Clarke into a fit of laughter. She almost slipped and fell herself which made Bellamy chuckle too. It took them ten long minutes before they finally calmed down enough to talk, both of them still grinning like Cheshire cats.

"Careful clumsy."

"I could say the same to you." He retaliated.

"Touché."

A few more minutes passed and Clarke found a small hole dug out of the side of a hill, raised slightly off the ground. It was half the height of her and about the same in depth. It could probably just fit both of them. "I think this is as good as it's going to get." She called to Bellamy.

"Better than staying out here all night."

He tied a small piece of tarpaulin around the opening in an attempt to block off as much of the outside weather as possible. It was pitch black inside and all he could hear was Clarke's teeth chattering lightly against each other, her breath a series of raspy puffs. She was chilled to the bone and it was obvious. Bellamy felt the exact same way. His feet were still ice cubes and his hands had become completely numb. He rubbed them together, hoping like hell he'd start to feel something.

Clarke couldn't see a thing but she somehow managed to pinpoint where Bellamy's hands were and she took them in her smaller ones. Quickly, she brought them to her face and blew. Straight away he had the sensation of hot air on his palms and wriggled his fingers, turning his hands and grasping at hers.

"I'm cold."

He shivered on cue and she did the same. "Me too."

"Did you bring blankets?" She shook her head. "Then there's only one thing for it. Strip."

"Excuse me?"

"Come on, Griffin. Its survival rule number one, well it's probably actually like rule seventeen but that's not the point, point is it's a survival rule. If you stay in wet clothes you're just going to get colder and the risk of getting hypothermia is a lot higher."

Clarke pressed hard into his hands and then let go. "Look who payed attention in school."

"Make fun of me all you want once you're warm." She felt his hoodie brush her arm. A lightning strike lit up their small shelter and for a moment, their eyes met before Bellamy turned away, giving her privacy to get undressed.

Clarke blushed. "Careful, your sweet side is showing."

He scoffed and continued to take off his clothes, ignoring her comment. She didn't have time to bother with his weird mood swings so she followed suit and soon they were both in just underwear.

The lightning outside was constant and with every thunder clap it seemed to drop a few degrees. Bellamy slid his arm around Clarke's shoulder and she turned into him. They were both freezing and she absent-mindedly rubbed her hands along his strong arms while he ran his fingers through her hair.

Clarke closed her eyes in content as she listened to the slow beat from bellow his chest. No more than a second later she was completely silent and Bellamy knew she was asleep.

While he played with her locks he strung his forearm around her hips and moved closer towards her. If someone had said to him only a month or so ago that he would practically be _snuggling_ with the doctor girl he would have laughed in their face and called them crazy.

But she'd woven her way through his walls and even though he hated himself for it, Bellamy cared about her. He cared about her so strongly he went out of his mind when she put her life in danger.

She was beautiful and smart, kind and honest. She was everything good in the world, everything he wasn't and he made a rule right then and there, that he would never corrupt her, never try to be with her. He made himself swear that he would fight his feelings, no matter how difficult that would be.

But when he stared down at her, sleeping softly, a small smile on her face, every bone in his body wanted to defy it all and kiss her.


	5. Miracle plant

**A/N: Hey! Sorry this update took so long but my laptop had a mental breakdown, chucked a huge tantrum and froze up. I sent it off to be fixed but I didn't realize how long it would take. Thank you all for your patience. Please review, they've dropped from 15 on Chapter 1 to 3 on Chapter 4 so I really don't know if you guys still like it or not. Lots of love :) **

The storm outside was still going when Bellamy felt Clarke wake up. She had shaken the entire night long and he guessed that not all of it was from the mild case of hypothermia. He had tiny, thin scratches where she had reached for his arms. Whenever she uttered his name in some kind of plea, he held her closer and hoped it would be enough to keep her steady.

"Morning." She whispered.

He almost smiled at her half closed eyes and croaky voice. "What about the good?"

"It'll be good when we get home and Monty gets better." And just like that the seriousness set in. "How'd you sleep?" She put her weight on her elbows and moved forward slightly. His arm was still around her waist and his warm hand pressed to the small of her back.

"Great." Bellamy spoke bluntly. "We need to get on with it; find that magic plant of yours."

Clarke gave him a confused gaze but started pulling on her clothes. They were still a little damp, a little cold, but enough to last until she got back to camp. From the sharp breath Bellamy made when he put his on, she guessed that his weren't in any better condition.

They didn't talk most of the way. The few conversations they had only lasted a couple of minutes at best and usually consisted of an argument about which direction they should go in. Bellamy won most of the time, which made Clarke even more determined to get a tally on the board.

"Maybe we should head to the beach?"

"That's at least a three and a half hours away. We'll probably get there by twelve but if we go there we won't get back until after the sun sets and I don't like the idea of being so far away from camp."

Clarke stopped walking. "We've gone to the sea before."

"Yeah but our friend wasn't dying then!" He yelled and stormed off, much to Clarke's delight, in the direction of the ocean, but Bellamy was too frustrated to notice. She followed him in silence and listened to him utter curses directed to her.

"Listen, I know you're upset but I think I remember reading somewhere that that 'miracle plant' grows in acidic soil. You can't get much more acidic than salt and salt water." Bellamy huffed and continued with his long strides. "There's a chance we can find it."

"A chance? If? Maybe? Might? They're all just guesses, Clarke!" His back slid against the hard back of a tall pine and he fell to the ground. His hands found their way to his head and his elbows landed on his knees.

"Bellamy." He looked up at her as she squatted down in front of him. "Nothing in this life is definite." She went to take his hands but he pulled away and turned his head, like her touch made him sick. "The truth is I'm not certain I can save Monty or anyone else who asks it of me. But I try; I'm_ trying. _And if you want to keep being so damn negative, you can piss off back home. I'll probably get further without you anyway."

Bellamy's head whipped around to face her in a split second. "You are not staying out here alone."

"Well, I'm headed to the beach." She stood up and re-started her trek. "If you don't want me to be by myself you're going to have to get up and move it along."

…

Clarke through her bag on the ground next to Bellamy, who was keeping watch, and went to look for what the two of them had now named the 'Miracle Plant'. She kept trying to stay optimistic, but her hope was draining fast.

"How heavy is it again?" He called out with a mouth full of berries.

She sighed and turned to him, the waves crashing against her bare feet. "It barely weighs anything. How can you forget something that extraordinary?"

"Clarke it's weird not _extraordinary_." He wiggled his fingers in the air. "Besides, plants aren't really my thing."

She bent down, picked up a shell and threw it at him. "What does that even mean?" It landed a foot or so away from him and he smirked at her failed throw.

"Can you see it anywhere?" He asked as he swallowed his mouthful. "Where haven't you looked?"

"I haven't looked in the actual water yet." She looked away from him as she raised an eyebrow. Clarke really didn't want to get wet again. The weather was getting better but it still wasn't hot enough for a dip in the sea.

Bellamy stood up, brushed off some sand from his pants and pulled off his top. "I guess I'm going for a swim then."

The blonde was trying extremely hard not to stare at his ridiculously chiselled chest. It was difficult, to say the least, and she hated herself for not being able to focus on the more important things.

"Like what you see, Princess?" He winked and stepped out of his pants. He frowned when she didn't say anything but remembered the promise he had made to himself the night before and suddenly he was glad that she didn't retaliate. "So it's bright orange?"

"Yes."

"Has dots on it?"

"Bumps." She corrected. "Sometimes."

"And before I go diving, is there anything else I should know?"

"It'll probably be growing between the rocks on the bottom." He nodded in response and just before his toes hit the water she said to him, "Stay close and stay safe."

"Will do."

To say she was worried would be an understatement. None of them had gone into the salt water before, they didn't know what dangers were there but she knew that he would go in no matter what she did, so all she could do was cross her fingers and wait to see him come back out.

To keep herself occupied she started digging around for some shells; interesting ones she could use for paint. They weren't a necessity but she had to get her hands doing something that wasn't fidgeting.

She found lots of cool coloured ones; blues, purples, creams. And pushed them into the remaining space in her back pack. By the time she was finished she could see Bellamy shaking his head dry like a dog that had just finished rolling around in a puddle.

"Thank god." She whispered to herself. Her eyes ran him over, making sure he was okay in every sense of the word. When her eyes landed on his hands the air was stolen from her lungs. They were soaked in blood from cuts that he must have gotten from the rocks but he was holding the Miracle Plant.

Without even registering it, she was running to him. Whether it was relief that he was alive or relief that Monty would be, neither of them knew. "I can't believe you found it!" She laughed with shock and her head fell back when pulled her off the ground. "You did it, Bellamy. This is amazing!"

They were beaming at each other and then he came to and almost dropped her into the sand. Luckily, she had quick reflexes and landed in a squatting position. "Sorry."

"Doesn't matter." She rubbed her hands together and let the sand fall back on the beach. "We should probably start heading home now."

"I am sorry, Clarke."

"No you're not, you're scared."

"What the hell does that mean?" He brushed past her, his shoulder bumped into hers and moved towards his bag.

Clarke was right behind him. "You know exactly what it means. You're too scared to get close to anyone. You don't want to show that you aren't a black-hearted bad guy."

"That's stupid." He grumbled and slid a strap over his arm.

She could almost scream at that moment. Her hands balled into red fists at her sides and she glared at his back as he turned away from her. "You know I'm right."

"No. _You think _you're right. But you aren't."

Her stare turned completely hard. "Excuse me?"

"Get over yourself. Not everything is about Little Miss Clarke Griffin."

"Fuck you, Bellamy." She couldn't believe how childish he was being.

He huffed. "You wish, Princess."

"Stop being such a prick!" She screamed and marched into the woods.

He followed after her but kept his distance. "I can't help it, it's in my nature." She didn't reply and Bellamy was thankful. He knew it was working; that he was pushing her away and making her hate him and although it destroyed him to keep treating her that way, it was the best thing for her, even if she didn't think so.


	6. Bellonty bonding

**A/N: Longer chapter, shorter wait. You guys deserve it. Please review! Love you.**

"They're back!"

It was sunset when he and Clarke had finally seen their camp ahead of them. The trip was the opposite of pleasant for the pair. Bellamy had caught his arm on a rusty, sharp fence and sliced a significant gash into his bicep. Instead of Clarke rushing to him and fretting over the injury like she normally would have, she did nothing. He knew she was mad at him, he hoped she would be, but to deliberately ignore his pain was unbelievable.

She didn't have the best trip back either; her face was drenched in sweat from the muggy weather, her entire upper body ached from the horrible sleep she had the night before and she swallowed some kind of flying grass hopper thing. What made things worse was that Bellamy continued to be an ass. He constantly complained about his 'bleeding death wound' (his words, not hers) and whined like a child about how heavy his bag was.

To say that she was relieved to be back would be the biggest understatement of the last four centuries.

She knew she couldn't get home and rest straight away. Monty needed to be tended to and when they passed through the gate her nerves took hold thinking about what was ahead of her.

Out of the corner of her eye she could see Finn standing outside Raven's tent. He shrieked some muffled cry that sounded like, "I missed you!". It was as if he were a baby who had been separated from his parents for the first time. It was horrible.

He pulled her into a hug instantly, one she did not return no matter how hard he squeezed. She'd forgotten how sore her side was, her mind was on everything and everyone else that she'd forgotten about her own injury.

In a calm voice she said, "Let go of me, Finn." But he refused. The brunette shook his head hard and took a deep breath through his nose as he pointed it in towards her neck. She could not believe how degrading this was, to look so weak in front of all the people she was supposed to lead.

"I'm warning you, Finn." She added but he was off in his own world of what he thought was happy and loving when really it was just embarrassing and uncomfortable. A second before she kneed him in the balls Bellamy hauled him off of her and pushed him in the direction of his tent.

He made eye contact with her for a second before he looked away and muttered, "Go see, Monty." And passed her the supplies he'd gathered on their trip.

"Great idea genius. As if I wasn't on my way to do that." She spat with sarcasm.

He stopped the step he was about to take and spun his head to look at her. Clarke could see he wanted to continue arguing but he told her to "forget it" and left, which made her even angrier.

_What a coward. _She thought. _Probably too dumb to think of a good comeback. _

She turned her back on him and drew back the door of the ship. Octavia was there, cleaning Monty's forehead while soothing Jasper with hope filled words. He was holding so tightly to Monty's hand that Clarke feared it would turn into another injury she would have to fix.

At the sight of her he cheered up; the frown on his face replaced with a small smile. It was better than nothing in her opinion.

"Did you get everything you needed?" Octavia asked as she stood up to ring out the wet rag.

The blonde nodded. "Can you help me unload the bags?"

Octavia took her brother's and emptied the contents into the makeshift store room. "What the hell is with these rocks?"

"Bellamy knew Monty liked them so every time he saw a cool looking one he picked it up." She smiled at the memory of him moping about how slimy one was when he plucked it from a stream but then remembered how he'd acted that morning and added, "Can you go fix him?"

"How'd you break him?"

Clarke tossed her head from side to side. "No clue."

She raised an eyebrow. "Don't you need me here?"

"Thanks but I can probably do this myself."

"Yeah but Clarke, you shouldn't have too."

She gave Octavia a quick hug, thanked her again and insisted that curing Bellamy of his angry-asshole-disease would be a massive help. "Besides, if I need an assistant I'll ask Jasper."

Octavia glanced at Jasper with a reassuring nod and exited quickly.

"Do you really mean that, Clarke?"

"Of course. I should be fine, I mean there aren't any major surgeries I have to do, just making teas and pastes and powders out of the plants we found but I would get it done quicker if you were on the sidelines talking to me?" She suggested.

He let go of Monty's hand slowly. "I don't know much about all that herby stuff."

"And I don't expect you to." She put on a brave face and smiled wider. "Just stick around and keep me company?" She felt like begging him to stay. If he didn't she'd crumble.

"Okay. I'm just going to grab you some food. You get started. I'll be back in jiffy."

So she obeys his semi-order and started cutting up the miracle plant. There was so much of it, she had the ability to get versatile with it. She knew it was digestible, even though the taste wasn't great. She also had a far bit of knowledge about making stuff that would go over his wound.

She began with the tea, knowing it would take a while to infuse into the water. Making the tea was a good idea because it was already liquid so it would take little to no time at all to find its way to Monty's blood stream.

Jasper bought her a few bits of pigs and stayed with her until the moon was way up in the night sky. He helped her where he could, applying pastes to Monty while she checked the tea but he couldn't keep it up for much longer. He was exhausted by the time they finished the tea and went to bed straight after he watched her poor it down his best friend's throat.

As he left he heard her whisper an apology to the unconscious boy but couldn't figure out if it was real or in his head.

Clarke slept by his side that night; not wanting to leave him or face Bellamy. She kept trying to think of places to stay but frustratingly, her tired brain couldn't come up with anything.

…

Bellamy woke up in the middle of the night with a still empty space next to him. Of course Clarke wouldn't stay with him after all he had done. But that was what he wanted to happen, wasn't it?

Knowing he wouldn't sleep until he knew Clarke was he went searching for her. Though it wasn't really a search, he knew exactly where she was.

There, draped at Monty's side, her head on her arm, he found Clarke. She breathed in and out softly, shuddered at the cold chill that blew through the drop ship and squeezed herself closer to Monty.

Bellamy scolded the unpredictable winter weather. When Clarke fell asleep it was probably hot, but it was quite the opposite now. He ran back into their tent and grabbed one of the blankets they found at the depot.

He scooped her into his arms gently and chucked the blanket over her with one hand. She immediately rested her head against his heart. Quickly, trying not to wake her, he walked back to their bed and placed her inside, pulling a fur over the top of her.

He knew she'd kill him if she woke up there and knew she would resurrect him and then kill him again if he left Monty alone so he grabbed his pants and a shirt and went back to their 'med bay'.

When he got there the last thing he thought he'd see was Monty, awake and smiling.

"Okay. I'm convinced Clarke's an angel. Sent down here to bring people back when they're seconds away from death." Monty spoke in a quiet voice, like he was using it for the first time, but he had no trouble laughing.

Bellamy grinned, the biggest he thought he ever had. "I missed you buddy. Everyone did. Do you want me to go get Jasper?"

"Nah, no doubt I'll see him tomorrow, I'd sort of just like to sit and talk if that's okay?"

Bellamy pulled up a chair. "As long as you_ lie_ and talk I'm fine with that. What's on your mind?"

"Can you tell me what happened?" He asked

"You got struck by an arrow. Your wound wasn't healing. Clarke and I went looking for natural remedies and stuff like that."

"So how is the greenhouse coming along?"

"We sort of stopped doing stuff on it when you came back hurt. We didn't want to make any major decisions without your input."

Monty yawned. "Well that is very considerate of you. Speaking of Clarke, how is she?"

"Fine." Bellamy grunted in a short voice. "Can't you ask me a different question?" He asked but the boy shook his head. "Monty, I don't want to talk about her."

"Why not?"

Bellamy put his shirt on and shuddered at the cold temperature. "If I told you, it would be talking about her."

"Isn't that what you're doing right now?"

"You got me. She's okay I guess. Really tired. Really stressed. That's about it."

Monty closed his eyes. "I need to thank her tomorrow."

Bellamy pulled a blanket over him and sat back down. "So do I."


	7. Axe throwing

Octavia took over from Bellamy in the morning, insisting that he get some rest after being up all night watching over Monty.

He knew his whole sleep schedule would be stuffed if he did so instead he immediately grabbed his axe and walked out of camp, completely ignoring Clarke's attempt to talk to him. Staying away was difficult, insanely difficult but he kept telling himself it had to be done.

_I don't even like her. She's wrong for me. We wouldn't work. _He constantly told himself things like that in an attempt to ease the pain that blocking her out caused.

Slowly, he lifted his axe with his arm, refusing to feel the stabbing sensation from his cut. He tried his best to fix it up while Monty was resting but he couldn't do it. Because it was at such an awkward angle, and on his preferred side, it was impossible to stitch it or bandage it up.

In one quick motion he threw the axe. He did it again, and again, and again. He pretended it was a person, one that didn't have a face but represented everything he seemed to be; selfish, angry and worthless.

For hours he stayed outside the camps walls. The trees bark had started to peel in places and there were deep lines in the wood, too many to count. Sweat cascaded down his arm into his wound and it stung from the saltiness.

He winced and wiped at the blood that slowly dripped from his now open cut. He would have stayed out for the whole day if Miller hadn't seen him. The look on his face when his eyes locked on the injury was something Bellamy could only describe as fury.

"You idiot. Go to your tent. I'll meet you there."

"I don't take orders from you, Miller. You take them from me."

Nathan pulled Bellamy's axe from the tree and slid it into a loop on his belt. "Not this time. Get inside."

As Bellamy went to grab his weapon back, he slipped on the mud and fell forward, embedding dirt into his gash. He swore and took in a sharp breath as he flicked rocks out on his forearm.

"Fine." He grumbled as he stood up. "Just this once. But don't you even think about getting the doctor to come clean this." He held out his arm and then dropped it at his side.

As he trudged through the hoard of teenagers and tents, Bellamy kept his arms crossed and his eyes on the ground. He didn't want anyone to see the blood that now covered his arm or the nervous ticks he got when he thought about it.

When he got to his tent, Clarke was already in there, sitting on the tree stop they called a chair. Miller was nowhere to be seen, probably a smart move, because If he was there Bellamy would have hit him so hard, he'd be seeing blue spots for weeks.

"I specifically told him not to get you."

"Who else would he get? I'm the only healer here!" She threw her hands in the air and stood up. "Sit down and stop acting like a child."

He frowned but obeyed. She knelt in front of him and got to work. Her hands on his skin was utter torture. The only thing to keep him distracted was the sharp string from his wound as she cleaned it.

"Why didn't you want me to do this?" Clarke asked in a quiet voice.

"I didn't want to see you."

"I figured. What I don't understand is why?" She looked up at him and he could have sworn she had tears in her eyes. "Why are you acting like this?"

Bellamy refused to answer. He couldn't say how he felt. He wouldn't say anything.

"Please just tell me what I've done." Her voice broke and her tears fell. Silent earthquakes rocked her body and even though it went against every rule Bellamy had set in place, he held her.

He couldn't bare it; the sight of her, crushed and heartbroken, made him forget everything. He hugged her close for a long time before she pulled away, still sniffling.

"Clarke, you didn't do anything. I-" Bellamy paused and placed his hand on her wet cheek. "I didn't want to poison you."

"What?" She gave him confused look and leant into his hand which he immediately dropped. Saddened she added, "You're not making sense." She grabbed his arm again and began stitching him up.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Which is exactly why you need to. You can't run from your problems Bellamy. It only makes them worse."

"It's worked so far."

"Has it? Your whole life you've been hiding how you really feel and look where you've ended up. Have you got one thing that you actually want? You're a leader but did you want to be? You had women leaving this tent in drove but did you actually want them here?" She stopped her working hands. "Octavia is alive but is she living? _You're _alive, but are you?"

"I guess not." Once again, he wouldn't meet her gaze and she started pacing around their shelter, the stitches only half done.

"Why do I bother?" She yelled at him.

He got off the stump and stared her down, which shut up her effort to order that he sit back down. "You bother because for some dumb reason you care! That's who you are, Clarke." He spoke a little softer.

Neither of them said anything. She pushed him back down onto the chair and started on the stitches again. Outside, they could hear people starting up the fire.

When Clarke finished, Bellamy eagerly got up and surged towards the door, but she quickly said, "I can help you."

"You can't."

"Why not?"

"You just can't!" He burst.

She sat on the bed, her head between her palms.

He nodded and ran his fingers over the neat stitches on his right arm. "We are opposites." He believed he was the moon, surrounded by darkness and she was the sun, surrounded by light.

"You're wrong." Clarke whispered and Bellamy shook his head. She turned to him and wound her small hands around his large ones. "You say we don't fit," Her eyes fell to their hands, "but we do. I had never felt like I belonged anywhere until the first time we shared this bed. With your arms around me, safe and firm, I finally felt like I had a home. "

Bellamy pulled away but she caressed his face with her fingers. "You may not think we match, but I do, and I will not stop trying to convince you that we belong together." And then she kissed him, with slow, tender movements.

Her thumb traced his jawline when he pulled her closer. She gripped his shoulder as he traced her lips with his tongue, attempting and succeeding to deepen the kiss.

For a moment, he screamed at himself to stop, to remember the guidelines he had put in place for himself, but then his rebellious side kicked in and he laid her down on their bed. After all, rules were made to be broken.

**A/N: An even shorter update because I just felt inspired to write the next chapter after a few really incredible reviews! I'm thinking that this might be a good place to end this story, even though I do have a huge amount of ideas for where this could go so please let me know if you want me to keep going. **


	8. Admitting emotions

Clarke woke before Bellamy, which was far from the norm, and ran her hands down his face. She smiled sweetly at the bundle of tanned skin, abs and messy curls next to her. She and Bellamy hadn't gone as far as she had wanted but she knew that if they had any hope of really being partners, they couldn't rush things.

Clarke was also becoming aware of how much Bellamy both loved and hated the idea of dating her. It wasn't fair that he should hold himself in such low regard, to blame himself for all the bad that had gone wrong.

He groaned softly in his sleep and continued to snore. She turned on her side and traced a line from his ear to his chin. She felt every dip in his skin, every miniscule scar and stared at his lips. They were a deep red colour and larger than usual, probably a side effect of the hormonal make out session that lasted almost the entire right.

Once again, her stupid brain made her think about stupid sex. She wanted him, she couldn't deny it, but she also needed it to fit and if waiting did that, she would. Her first time was a mistake. When she thought about it she felt a pain in her stomach that some would call regret and others would call guilt. For her, it was a mix of bot and more.

Raven had told her that losing your virginity was supposed to be an experience that not many others would top. It was supposed to be with the right guy, the right setting and frankly, the right feeling.

When she kissed Bellamy, everything moulded into a perfect mix of contentment. She was on a high, a feeling she could never have conjured, even in her imagination. They hadn't even taken their clothes off and Clarke felt more connected to him than she ever had with Finn. Now, it was like she was tied to Bellamy in a way that made him one of, if not the most, important person in her life. He was already close before hand, but after what he told her the night before, he sort of sealed the deal.

"Are you staring at me, Princess?" Bellamy looked up at her, one eye half open, the other still fully closed.

She snuggled further down in the bed and rolled over so her back was facing him. "You cant prove anything."

"True." He mumbled and she felt his elbows collide with her shoulder blades as he rubbed his face. In a simple manner he asked, "Breakfast?"

Bellamy went to get out of bed but Clarke spun and stopped him. "Shouldn't we talk about everything?"

"Nope."

She frowned at him and tilted her head with a slight pout. "We're closer now."

"We've been sharing a bed for a while, Clarke; I'm pretty sure we're already close."

He watched her cross her arms over her chest. "You ass. One night of light fondling, you get your fix and it's done?"

"That isn't it."

"Then what's going on because I thought we sorted it out last night!"

And at that precise moment, as steam trained out of Clarke's ears, Miller opened their tent door. "Guys, you slept in."

"I wasn't aware you were keeping track of our sleeping schedule, Miller?" Bellamy stood and started to pull on his pants. "I'll meet you outside in two. Be ready to go."

Clarke's red face was now pale. Worry lines etched into her forehead and stress inched it's way into her eyes. "You're leaving again?"

"We aren't going far, just getting more fire wood. I'll see you at lunch, okay?" He gave her an extremely brief kiss on the cheek, something very un-Bellamy-like. Clarke didn't really notice what she was doing but she pulled him closer for a few seconds, deepened the kiss and let him go.

"Stay safe?" She wanted to add a please but felt dumb and decided against it.

"I always am." He flashed her a small smile from the door. "You should probably put some jeans on and check that Monty's all good."

She waved him away and Bellamy left the tent with a smile on his face. He was at war with himself. On one hand he was worried that things between he and Clarke wouldn't work it, and he would ruin everything as he usually did, but on the other hand, he wasn't even sure what they were doing. Truthfully, Bellamy didn't really know how Clarke felt or how he felt himself. He guessed he would soon find out.

And so, as he thought about the endless possibilities and confusing times ahead, as he hunted. If he was honest, thinking about Clarke was the only thing getting him through the start of the day. It was raining and windy and Monroe was talking way too much. Hunting on normal days was difficult but hunting while the weather was like this was basically impossible.

He had to keep his eye on Murphy too. He still didn't trust him with a knife, or any weapon as a matter of fact, but Clarke had convinced him to let him stay and Octavia convinced him to let him leave the camp. The hold those two had on him was ridiculous, but he did what they asked.

Murphy was skinning a rabbit while he made his way back over to the rest of the group, smiling as if he had won the trophy for 'World's Best Tracker'. "Looks like me and my mad skills will be getting all the girls from now on, Bellamy."

"I wouldn't really claim having any 'mad skills' if I were you, Rabbit Boy." He laughed and shook his head. "Monroe, can you take him and his catch back to camp?"

"Sure thing. When will you guys be back?"

Bellamy scratched his chin. "Around half an hour maybe. We've already got enough to last a week or so but we're on a good run."

And with that, the two were gone. It was about a ten minute walk back and then another hour before they could eat and Miller was getting more restless by the minute. "Why can't we just head back with them?" He asked.

"Because I need your advice on something and I didn't want the others overhearing."

Miller started walking, knowing they had enough space between them and the others. "You're being awfully vague."

"I don't mean to be." Bellamy wiped some of the water off his face. "It's just that this is hard to say out loud and I would have gone to Octavia but when it comes to this sort of thing she usually just squeals like a thirteen year old and hits me a lot."

"You're still vague. Just tell me."

"I think I might like Clarke."

Miller laughed. "I already knew that."

He scoffed. "As if."

"Look, I'm not saying I knew how _deeply _you cared for her, but I'm saying I knew you did. We may not be too close, but I can at least tell that you treat her differently to a lot of others." Miller passed him the water bottle. "Besides, if you didn't like her, you wouldn't have kicked her out of your tent by now."

"Does everybody know?"

"People have suspicions but nobody believes you'd ever get together."

Bellamy seemed a bit disheartened. "And why is that."

Miller laughed again. "Because everyone thinks you're too much of an asshole."

"Well everyone's right."

"No they aren't. They think they are but they don't really know you. They're scared of the grounders and they like to believe that you're a tough, badass who doesn't care about anyone because they think that's the kind of person who will keep them safe. But in actuality, it's Clarke that's saving everyone.

Her compassion is her greatest strength and she's smart enough to make the right decisions. You are exactly like her, in almost every way. The two of you together would only greaten our chances of survival. It won't take long for those kids to start realizing that."

"Good to know."

"So are you going to ask her out?"

Bellamy rolled his eyes. "Please Miller, I'm not five."

"No, you're twenty-three, and yet you still came to a friend to ask for relationship advice about a girl you blush over." He lifted his eyebrows at his stained cheeks and continued. "So I am going to ask again. Are you going to ask her out?"

"I don't know."

"Well figure it out."

…

Clarke started cutting wood a few minutes after Monroe and Murphy returned. It was one of the few things besides healing she could actually do well. One of the stronger boys chopped some fallen trees into smaller pieces a few days earlier and Clarke decided to get it done while the weather was cooler so she could work harder without needing to take so many breaks. It was all she could do to keep her mind off Bellamy.

As quickly as she became distracted did she think about him again. It was infuriating just how much of her time was occupied by thoughts of him.

"What are you doing out here by yourself?" Octavia asked, bringing her back to reality.

Clarke rolled her eyes. "I'm literally a foot away from the fence, O."

"Yeah but still."

She brought the axe over her head. "But still nothing. You're always outside alone."

"Touché." The brunette sat down on a small patch of dry grass. "Where's Bell? I haven't seen him all day."

Clarke swung the axe down. "He's gone out with Miller. He said he'd be back for lunch and that we'd talk then." She let that last part slip and slapped herself mentally.

"Talk about what?" Octavia's eyes widened as she raised a brow.

She split the wood and let it fall either side of her. "Nothing."

"Spill it, Clarke."

"No."

Octavia pushed her lips together to stop herself from smiling. "Yes. You know I won't ever stop pestering you about this, right?"

"Fine. We kissed and he said we'd talk about it when he got back." She wedged the axe into the block of wood she used as a chopping block and sat next to her. Octavia didn't say anything but she smiled knowingly. "I think I might like Bellamy."

Octavia grinned wide. "I knew it!" She yelled and then again louder.

Clarke grabbed her arms. "Shut up! You can't tell anyone."

"Believe me Clarke, people don't need me to tell them."

Her face turned crimson; in frustration and embarrassment. "What the hell does that mean?"

"The kids are already suspicious."

Clarke ran a hand down her face. "You're kidding?"

Octavia laughed. "Clarke, you two share a tent and they all have pretty big imaginations. Friends with benefits is what a lot of them believe."

"That's ridiculous! We would never-" She stopped when images of him flooded her head. "I don't know!"

"But you would like to?" The younger girl nudged her with her elbow.

"Of course I would like to, O. But I can't. Not yet. I don't know how he feels or what he wants. He's so infuriating!"

"Tell me about it." She laughed. "You'd think after living with him for so long, I'd be used to it or at least find a way to deal with it."

"So no tricks?"

"Nope. Sorry."

The blonde pressed her palms into her temples and shook her head. "What do I do?"

"Wait for him to get back?"

Clarke turned her head to look at her in disbelief. "That's it? You're only advice is to wait? You're usually so good with this sort of stuff."

"I really am sorry but I've got nothing." Octavia sighed and stretched her legs straight. "Murphy brought back a rabbit. I'm pretty sure it'll be finished cooking soon if you want to take a break?"

"Nah, I'll stay out here for a bit longer. The water's kind of soothing. Thanks anyway."

"Alright but make sure that if you get too wet you come straight back inside. My brother would kill me if he knew I left you out here alone and cold."

"No problem. If he comes back before I get inside just tell him I'm out here."

Octavia nodded. "I will." And said as she left, "If you're not back inside in an hour I'll bring you out something to eat."

…

Bellamy hauled the large boar across his shoulders and Miller dragged a small deer by its antlers. Someone had already started a fire in the smoke house, and a few of the teens gathered around it, warming their hands. They filed out when they saw the boys carrying their food and congratulated them as they passed.

Miller looked extremely proud of himself and started taking apart his animal. Bellamy always hated this part of hunting. The time where he had to actually dismember the thing and skin it and cut it to pieces. His friend knew this and offered to do it for him.

"Go find her."

He uttered a thanks and exited the building as quickly as they had entered. Bellamy looked everywhere; the drop ship, their tent and even the fire. He waltzed into his sister's tent, hoping she'd be in there but she wasn't. The only people inside were Octavia and Raven.

"Looking for someone, Bro?"

He played with his fingers. "Clarke. Is she here?"

"Just outside the wall, behind the ship. See you later." She smirked and he wondered what she knew that he didn't. That was something, he told himself, that would have to wait for another day.


	9. All alone

There was a rustle in the woods around her and Clarke put down Bellamy's axe. There were figures in the trees and she instantly felt vulnerable. It was true that she was only a few steps away from their boundary but she couldn't help it. Her emotions got the best of her and even though she knew Bellamy would kill her, she was too curious not to take a look.

That was her first mistake. Her second was not screaming the minute she saw the mutated people. They surrounded her in an instant, spears all pointed in her direction as if they were circling their prey.

Just as she opened her mouth to call for help, a huge hand covered her mouth. She bit down hard, trying to wound the person in any way possible, but nothing seemed to work. There was nothing she could do. He kicked her legs and they bound them. She punched with her arms and they sliced her shoulders in a sort of warning.

"We don't want to hurt you." One woman said, slowly dropping her spear. "But if you don't cooperate willingly you _will_ be forced to."

Clarke cried out but only muffled sounds were heard. She was too far from camp to be seen by the scouts, not that those stupid kids would have paid much attention.

A short man walked in front of her and smiled, the kind that showed he didn't speak English, but wanted too in that moment. And then, his eyes turned sad and he brought a blindfold over hers.

Clarke tried to beg but the man behind her grunted and shoved his knee into hers, making her collapse into the dirt.

"So you aren't willing?" That same woman announced, more to the rest of her people than to Clarke, and then nodded. A piece of cloth was shoved into her mouth and then she was lifted into the air. She thrashed her body hard. It didn't do any good.

Clarke was in the dark for days. Not really but every minute felt like an eternity to her. She squirmed every second but the strong arms around her did not let up. She heard the sound of feet through water, rushing waves and snapping twigs. She heard people talking in a language that was similar to that of a grounder, but not entirely. She got bits and pieces. Healer was one that was quite common; so was dinner and stupid.

The air around her got colder and she felt rain splatter on her arms. Something slipped around her shoulders when she shivered and was pulled to her neck. She knew she should be thankful but she was too terrified to feel any other emotions except for anger, worry and stress.

"We are almost there." A voice above her whispered. His words were strung out. Clearly, he had trouble with the language she was so familiar with. It seemed like that was a running theme with her captors.

"No be scared." He talked again, with a questioning tone, like he wasn't sure if she would understand or if he'd said it correctly. Clarke nodded once to convey that she got what he was saying.

She fell asleep shortly after that, much to her dismay, and woke again to the sound of loud voices. She was in a huge room, with a cement floor and dirty walls with peeling paint that revealed an old brick wall.

There was a purple bruise on her palm and two cuts in her shirt where the mutated people had sliced her. A dried blood trail was left on her left arm that stopped at her elbow. The cuts weren't deep enough to do damage but everything was exaggerated for her at that moment.

A door, worn with age, was the only thing stopping her from leaving her cage. She stood on shaky legs and turned the doorknob.

_Locked. Of course. Now it really is a prison. _

"Hey!" She screamed, her voice a little more hoarse than she wanted. "Let me the hell out of here!"

Clarke slammed her body against the door, cursing as her cut shoulder collided with it. "Would you shut up in there?"

She didn't recognize the voice. "You're new." She grunted to the man and bashed the old again. "I didn't hear you when I was kidnapped."

He scoffed and Clarke imagined a pair of eyes rolling. "I'm quiet."

"Clearly." She countered. She thought she won the argument in her mind because her 'guard' didn't reply. But a few minutes later she heard him get up and knock on the door.

"Someone will be coming down to grab you soon. Word of advice, don't talk and don't ask questions."

It wasn't long before someone did come and visit her. It was a boy. He couldn't have been more than fourteen or fifteen. In Clarke's opinion, far too young to be caught up in whatever it was she had gotten herself into.

He didn't speak to her when he opened the door. He made eye contact for a few seconds before he slipped inside and then pulled it shut behind him. His face was dropped slightly on one side. The radiation had not affected him as badly as it had some of the others she saw.

Clarke felt sorry for him. And guilty, insanely guilty. She hadn't done anything to him, but her ancestors were responsible for the bombs and that meant she felt responsible. The boy wouldn't talk to her. He only looked at her.

She sat patiently while he cleaned her wounds and looked over her bruises. Before too long, he was finished wiping down her cuts. He pulled a small bag from off his shoulder and handed her a change of clothes. A pair of ripped jeans and a long sleeve, black shirt.

When she started changing out of her dirty garments he faced away from her. She was grateful for the small amount of privacy.

"I'm done."

The young boy grunted and held the door open for her. She didn't bother to ask him where he was taking her or why because she was sure he wouldn't provide her with an answer. They were in an underground bunker, set out like a jail. There were tonnes of rooms, just like hers, opposite each other with a large concrete hallway in between.

Their footsteps were loud as they walked the corridors. The whole place was like a maze and Clarke knew that on her own, she'd never find her way out. She still made a mental note of every turn they took, hoping those directions could lead her somewhere a little safer than a seller.

Clarke sighed. "Are we almost there?"

The boy nodded and that was the extent of their interaction. They carried on in silence until they entered a large open space, occupied by three other men. Even though the room was massive, the large figures filled the space. Their presence was intimidating.

"Who are they?" She moved closer to the boy and whispered as quietly as possible. When he didn't reply she rolled her eyes. "Figures."

The boy grabbed her wrist and at first Clarke thought it was out of force, but it was his way of reassuring her. "Friend." He smiled at her and edged her forward. She trusted the boy, but the other three, she couldn't bring herself to.

One man had horrific scars on his legs and face but something told her that he didn't get them from the radiation, but rather from a war. Another had disfigured arms and a gaze that chilled her to the core.

The most disturbing of all, was the dark skinned man who sat in the very corner of the room. He was hunched over, sharpening a dagger. _How very cliché. _She thought. However, his nature wasn't what scared Clarke; she was scared by the fact that he didn't have eyes. There wasn't anything there apart from sagging skin and gross scabs.

She knew they weren't in control of how they appeared but she couldn't help the feeling of repulsion that swirled in her stomach. "Why the hell am I here?" Her voice projected much more confidence than she actually had, but not nearly enough anger.

They stared at her as if she were a dim-witted child who was chucking an even stupider tantrum. She was furious. "You kidnap me, lock me up and now you don't even have the decency to explain yourselves?!"

Exasperated, she threw her hands up in the air and her arms instantly stung, as well as the old sore on her stomach. "We are dying." The eyeless man said as he stood.

Clarke scoffed. "You're a bit blunt."

"I don't like to dwell on unimportant manners. We are dying, Healer and you _are_ going to do as we say."

"If you don't," The battle scared man joined in. "you will be killed."


	10. Endless nightmares

**A/N: I want to apologize for how late this chapter has been. I know it's been a week or so but I've had mid-terms and have had absolutely no spare time to write or edit or upload. But I'm back now! Thank you all for being so patient. Please review if you have the time. **

"Bellamy, calm down." Octavia put her hands on her brother's shoulders. "She hasn't been gone that long."

Bellamy shook his head. "Two and a half weeks, O. She's been missing for two and a half fucking weeks."

"We'll find her."

"And what if we don't?" He was exhausted, mentally and physically, but he wouldn't give up.

Octavia chucked his hoodie at him. "We will. Because I know you. If it wasn't for Miller and Jasper literally dragging you back into camp, you'd still be out there searching. But the truth is, you need to take a break. You haven't been eating and you haven't been sleeping much either."

He huffed and pulled on his jumper. "That's because I can't." His sister grabbed his hand and sat down on the bed next to him. "I have nightmares."

"Do you need me to stay with you?"

Bellamy hated that he'd grown so dependent on Clarke. He said he had nightmares but most of the time, he couldn't even get to that point because without Clarke next to him, he couldn't even sleep.

"Nah, I'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

The older boy nodded. "I'll grab a bit of pig and then head back out. That'll give me a few hours before it gets dark."

"Well, I'll go take a quick nap and then go out with you." Octavia stood up and ruffled his hair which her brother was not happy with.

Bellamy grabbed his black jacket and put it on over his hoodie. "Thanks, O."

"What are little sisters for if not to help look for their brother's girlfriend?"

His head snapped up and looked her dead in the eyes. "She is not my girlfriend."

Octavia rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Could have fooled me."

"I think the lack of naps is making you delirious."

"I think you're running out of comebacks."

Bellamy scoffed. "Whatever."

"Yep, you've run dry. Go grab some food. Come wake me up when you're done."

"Will do." He replied and she left him alone. Being alone wasn't the best thing for Bellamy. When he didn't have someone to talk to, his thoughts fell on Clarke. He was constantly wondering where she was. And if she was okay. Jasper and Monty were optimistic, or at least tried to be. Miller was trying to keep him occupied with useless jobs but he was appreciative.

It wasn't long before he was out of his tent and warming his hands by the fire. There was a thin blanket of frost covering the ground and the trees. Winter had officially set in.

Bellamy sent a few people back to the depot to get more supplies and in some kind of miracle, they found waterproof coats. There weren't too many; ten or eleven, but it was a start. They were shared around and whenever anyone left camp, they were given one for their journey.

Miller came over and stood next to him, holding his palms out to the orange flames. "We're going out again. I figured you'd want to come?"

"Obviously." He muttered. "Octavia and I were about to head out soon anyway."

"We're meeting at the gate in two. Go get your sister."

Bellamy offered his friend a salute and walked away. Octavia was snoring lightly and rolling over to her stomach. He didn't like to wake her seeing as how she's had almost as many restless nights as he has but she'd be furious if they left and didn't tell her so he reached down and shook her shoulders gently.

"Come on. We're leaving."

She rubbed her eyes and pushed his hands away. "I'll be up in five minutes."

Bellamy threw her bag at her. "You've got one."

-x-

Clarke was punched again, this time in the jaw. "Please." She begged the one eyed man, "I've told you already. Your condition isn't curable." He kicked her right knee and she fell on the cold floor of her cell.

"My people are dying and you know how to stop it." He growled and towered over her.

She could taste blood in her mouth. "I don't know anything! Whatever's wrong with you, it isn't the mutation." She tried to stand up but her legs shivered and she fell again, hitting her head. "If you want my help you need to let me see the rest of your people."

"Why?"

Clarke wiped her chin as the red liquid began to drain. "How am I supposed to find out what's wrong with you all if you only let me see three or four others?"

He punched Clarke again, right near her temple and she struggled to stay conscious. "You just want to escape. You don't want to help." He sounded like a really aggressive upset baby.

"Please, I do. But I can't from this prison. I need to be out there examining everyone; checking symptoms." She pulled herself into a sitting position and leant against the wall.

"They don't speak Sky Person. They won't be able to tell you what they are feeling."

"Then I'll look for physical symptoms. You told me I'd die if I didn't help, so let me." She pleaded with Eye (as she had started to call him in her head) and after many minutes of silence he gave in.

"Okay. I'll get you some food first. You haven't eaten in five days."

Clarke's stomach rumbled at the thought of anything edible. "Has it been that long?"

"Yes."

"And how long have I been here?" It had felt like an eternity.

Eye counted in his head for a second. "Almost twenty-one."

"Three weeks?" Clarke was furious.

"Yes."

She glared at him. "Go get the food. The sooner this is done, the sooner I can leave."

The man shut the bared door. "You aren't leaving."

"Well then I guess I'm not curing your entire clan either." She crossed her arms over her chest.

"You don't have a choice." He stated.

"Like hell I don't have a choice. You think you can keep me here forever? You think you can get me to help you while you treat me like I'm the reason your society is sick? If I don't get released after I heal you then why would I bother to help at all?" She was yelling now but she didn't care. "You have nothing to hold over me."

"That may be the case now but not for long. One of our scouts caught glimpses of your friends walking through a patch of forest nearby. I have men swarming them whilst you and I speak."

"What?"

"Do I really need to repeat myself?" He asked with a cocky smile on his face.

Clarke was defeated. She was so scared for whoever was in those woods that she didn't even hear his question or the statement that followed.

I win, little girl. I win."

Her mind filled with un-answerable questions. Who was out there? Did they know how much danger they were in?

She couldn't handle the images that her imagination called. There were visions of Octavia and Raven being dragged by their ankles, over rocks and logs, like dolls. Monty and his wound being re-opened as he screamed in pain.

And then, when she fell asleep, she dreamt of Bellamy. The boy she couldn't not love. He was reaching for her, calling her name, begging her to make the faceless creatures stop their attacks.

He clawed at the dirt that turned to mud and slipped as he tried to run. Fists were pounded into his face and stomach and throat and legs.

It was as if Clarke was right there, inches from his battered face. He was dying. She saw it all. The light in his eyes dim with every new assault, the rise of his chest come slower with each breath and the way his mouth hung open after he said her name one more time.

She gasped and clutched her chest, as she did after almost every nightmare. "Bellamy." She said in a broken voice. Tears flowed from her eyes effortlessly. It was so real; so Earth shatteringly real.

In that moment Clarke felt fragile. Like she could break at the slightest touch of a hand.

_He's fine. _She told herself and tried to slow the fast paced beating of her heart. _It was all in your head. He's fine. They are all fine. _

She didn't believe herself. Every fibre that made up her body told her that they were the farthest from being fine. Her gut churned as she tried to sleep on. She prayed that she would not see her friends again because that would mean that they were safe.


	11. Honest confessions

Clarke had a bruise on her chin and a throbbing headache. Eye had told her she had half an hour to clean herself up before he would take her to some of the sick. They gave her a bucket of water and an old rag, both now covered in blood. She had a change of clothes as well; a pair of tracksuit shorts and a long sleeve, black shirt.

It was cold in the cement bunker so shorts weren't really the best but she didn't feel like asking for anything else. If she didn't smell so bad, she would have stayed in her old clothes.

"How many of your people are ill?"

"Almost all. I'm fine. Ten of us were sick and got over it. Thirty-nine of us died. There's thirty-four of us left now." He hung his head as they walked past a few in the cafeteria.

Clarke reached up to put her hand on his shoulder in some sort of comfort but quickly decided it wasn't a good idea. She didn't like these people, she just felt sorry for them, for what they were being put through. She knew she shouldn't because the man she was walking with had beaten her and another had done the same when she was first taken.

"You know, I'm not going to help until I know those kids you saw in the forest are okay." Clarke stopped walking.

Eye scoffed. "Follow me."

"Where?" The man didn't answer her and she was too scared to see what would happen if she didn't go after him. Instead, she stayed two or three steps behind.

They wove through concrete walls and dirt covered floors. Somehow they ended up back in the cell corridor.

"I thought I was looking over some of you guys today."

"I thought you wanted to know how your people were."

"I do but I don't understand-" She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw a muscled boy, lying face down on the ground, in her 'room'. There was no mistaking who those tousled curls belonged to. Bellamy.

Clarke could see Eye smiling sickly but she didn't take much notice. She ran to the barred doors and screamed at him to open it.

"Not until you swear to heal us."

"I swear to do all that I can. Please, just let me look at him. I really need to make sure he's okay."

"You can come back tonight; afterwards. Let's call it incentive."

And so, she reluctantly left her friend lying there and silently told him she'd be back.

...

Her first patient was a little girl. She didn't seem to be affected by the radiation at all, maybe she wasn't old enough to show signs or maybe she was just lucky. She was a sweet girl. She told Clarke stories about the people who lived down here and how once, she saw two rabbits climb down the staircase near their bunker entrance.

Clarke was particularly interested in that story. Granted, the girl's English wasn't perfect but for a six year old it was pretty great. Every little detail that the girl told her gave her more information on how to get out. She felt bad for using the kid but she needed to know if there was a way for her to escape this place with Bellamy and not get caught.

By lunch time, she had looked over seven or eight people. They all had a few symptoms in common; excessive vomiting, ice cold skin and blisters on their stomachs. She had no idea what was wrong with them. She just hoped she could stall long enough to figure a way out.

When dinner rolled around, the same boy she met her first day there, escorted her back to the cell. She was fidgeting with her fingers, anxious to make sure Bellamy was alright.

The boy must have thought she was scared of him because once again he muttered, "Friend."

Clarke smiled and went pack to picking dirt out of her nails. A few more turns and she would see him. That terrified her.

They got to the cell and he started unlocking the door. She placed a hand on his forearm. "Thank you for being the only civil person here."

He shrugged his shoulders and opened the door for her. "Don't do stupid."

"I won't." She said as she landed on the floor next to Bellamy. She turned him on his back and ran her fingers over his stubbled cheeks. He had cuts all over his arms and legs.

She slid behind him, placed her head against the stone wall and pulled his into her lap. She pressed her palms to his jaw and her tears crept down her cheeks.

"Please be okay." She whispered. "I don't think I could handle it if you weren't."

He spun his body to the side and groaned. He was sleeping but moving which was a good sign. She played with his hair again and sobbed. "I need you."

Surprisingly, he grabbed one of her hands in his big one and placed her palm to his chest. With a small amount of contentment back in her heart, she drifted off, hoping she'd be able to talk to him in the morning.

...

Bellamy woke up to Clarke asleep next to him. She was curled beside him, holding both of his hands close to her heart. As if sensing him waking up, she opened her eyes and rubbed them, clearly not remembering all that had happened. And then, her eyes widened, and she threw her arms around his neck. "You're awake!"

"I'm sore." He whispered.

Clarke retracted her arms quickly. "Sorry, I'm just glad you're alive."

He reached for her hands again and she gave them to him without hesitating. "I'm glad you're alive too. Where are we?"

Clarke absent-mindedly rubbed her thumbs along his. "Underground. That's about the extent of my knowledge."

"Who took us?"

"Mutated people. That's about the extent of my knowledge." She repeated and began to laugh but the look on Bellamy's face made her stop.

He let go of one of her palms to stroke her face. "What did they do to you?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Clarke-" He started.

"Bellamy. I'm okay. Seriously. I don't know how long we have before I have to leave so-" This time Bellamy cut her off.

"You have to leave?"

"The people here are sick, dying and they think I can cure them. I didn't want to help and they kidnapped you to use you as leverage. I'm scared of what they'll do to you if I don't cooperate."

"Clarke, you aren't a miracle worker. You can't bring people back from the dead."

"These people aren't dead yet, maybe I can help them."

"You don't have the solution to every problem, Princess." She smiled.

Bellamy scolded her. "I'm serious."

"I know, it's just, I never thought I'd miss that nickname."

"Princess." He said again, a look of adoration on his face, one she had only ever seen on rare occasions.

"As I was saying, I don't know how much time I have left before I have to go back up there and I don't know when I'll see you again. But I need to tell you something. While I was here, away from everyone, I came to realize just how much I cared for everyone and just how much I cared for _you_."

Bellamy looked like he was holding back something, like he was waiting for her to finish her thought. He seemed like he was trying to be a gentleman but in actuality, he was about to burst.

"I had no one, Bell. For weeks I was here alone, sitting in the darkness and thinking about everyone back at camp. My mind always wandered to you and how you were. I was worried, not for myself, but for you. I remembered every moment that led me here. I remembered all the things we have been through together, all the secrets we have shared and as hard for me as it is to admit, I realized that," She had to breathe and wipe the tears off her cheeks. "I love you."

When he didn't speak she added, "That's why I have to do this. I have to try and help these people because if I don't they will _kill_ you. That would break me, Bell."

Bellamy wrapped his arms around her waist and she cried into his shirt. He rubbed the small of her back in slow circles and kissed the top of her head.

"We'll get through this, okay?" He asked while he pulled her away slightly to look at him.

"Okay." She nodded. He placed a soft, passionate kiss on her lips. It was filled with an emotion she couldn't name and a hundred others she could. He held her small face in his large hands and pulled her to him.

"I love you too." He whispered to her softly. "I'm terrified of what that means but there's no more time to push it aside. I love you, Clarke Griffin, and I will do whatever it takes to get you out of here safely."

She kissed him again; this time however, their connection was brief. "Get_ us _out of here safely." She corrected.

**A/N: So the power couple are reunited? And they'd said those special words to each other. I was honestly going to hold off until later on but I didn't want to torture you guys any longer and with the news that we won't be getting Season 3 until the start of next year, I think we just all need a bit of Bellarke to brighten our spirits. As always, please review if you have the time. Can we get to 73? That's only a few short comments from you lovely people.**


End file.
